Before Sunrise
by rainwater tears
Summary: “And MTV sends reporters to Bahrain?” Jess and Rory in NYC. loosely based on the movie of the same title.
1. 7:00 to 8:00 Gracie's

Title: Before Sunrise

Author: Rainwater Tears

Author's Note: For Ari, the super-awesome beta of this chapter, Becka, who wrote the first two paragraphs, and all the lits.

Summary: "And MTV sends reporters to Bahrain?" Jess and Rory in the NYC. (loosely based on the movie of the same title.)

---

_Don't say "no" just to make me stop talking or make me go away. Only say "no" if you really don't want to be with me._

_No!_

---

It's strange what happens when you're about to leave somewhere familiar. Things you never took the time to notice, or even see, suddenly emerge as if clamoring to be a part of the memories you'll take with you, wanting that acknowledgment while they still have the chance.

When she'd been preparing to leave home for college, she noticed a small crack in the door that led to her bedroom. A snag in her mother's favorite sweater. The way the flag on their mailbox never sat quite right. They'd probably always been there but only when she was about to leave them behind did she notice. And now, as she left New York, everything around her seemed new. It was a strange sensation - to be seeing somewhere you lived for ten years for the very first time.

After only a week in the city she had picked up the pace of a New York lifestyle. She rushed places, never really taking the time to appreciate the city for what it was. Never noticing the beauty that lay between the grime and the graffiti.

"Come on, Ror, it's your last night in the city. You've gotta decide what you wanna do! You can't off."

"You can't honestly expect me to be able to decide. What would you do if you had twelve hours left in the country for God knows how long?"

Molly was stumped. "I'd...I'd...oh, who knows." She sat back in the cab. "Why do you always have to be so logical?"

"It's what I do. Besides, I don't want to regret tonight. It has to be perfect, you know?"

"I know. I just don't see why I can't come along."

"Because...because I entered this city alone, and that's...that's how I want to leave it." She gave her friend a hug and pushed the cab door open. "It's not something I expect you to understand, it's just something you have to accept. It's one of my fun little quirks."

"Yeah, yeah, you're just full of those."

"Yes, well, in about five seconds you'll be done with them."

Realization dawned on Molly. "Oh, sweetie, give me another hug! Oh, I'm gonna miss you so much. You have to promise to write!"

"I'll write," Rory said as she gasped for breath. Molly was strong, and she was using her strength to squeeze Rory to death. "But I can't if you suffocate me before I can leave."

"I know. I know."

"You are gonna see me, you know. All you've gotta do is turn on your TV."

"I know, and I'll make sure to do that." The friends stared at each other for a moment. "I am going to miss you."

"I'm going to miss you, too." They hugged one last time and then Rory pushed the door of the cab closed. As Molly disappeared into a sea of dirty yellow traffic Rory turned to face the Port Authority.

---

_I mean, you ditched school and everything. That's so not you. Why'd you do it? _

Because you didn't say goodbye.

Oh. Bye, Rory.

Bye, Jess.

---

After paying for a locker to store her luggage, Rory stepped back out onto the busy street. She felt naked without her baggage, but the sun was setting and the evening was warm, much like it had been the night she first arrived in the city.

She was twenty-two then. Twenty-two and naive, working as an intern for MTV of all places. Before she knew it she was on TV, her words about war and politics falling on the deaf ears of a nation of mindless teenagers who would rather watch TRL than CNN.

It seemed like so long ago, but it had really only been a few years. She had originally been hired for her face, but over time she managed to convince people that she actually understood what she was talking about when she was standing in front of a camera, reading off a teleprompter, and she gradually made a name for herself as a reporter. Not her own name, of course (on screen she was Laura Hayden, a name that fit with the Hilaries and Damiens, but maintained her privacy), but a name nonetheless.

Rory began walking aimlessly. Growing up in Stars Hollow had taught her how to get from place to place by foot, and it was one of the things she loved about the city. It didn't matter that it was huge, people still walked where they wanted to go, much like they always had in her hometown. After a few blocks (and approximately thirteen Starbucks) she stopped outside one of her favorite used bookstores.

Perfect.

"Hey Gracie," Rory said when she spotted the older woman behind the counter.

"Rory! I didn't think I'd ever see you again!" Gracie took about two seconds to leap up from her stool, practically climb over the counter, and tackle her.

"Well, I wouldn't leave without a good bye," she said, returning the hug.

"Good, 'cause I want to give you a going away present."

Rory sighed. "Oh, no, Gracie, you don't have to."

"What do you mean, I don't have to? Of course I don't. I want to!"

Rory smiled at the woman. "Okay."

Gracie beamed back. "Pick a book."

"What?"

"Pick a book. Any book. I don't care if it's a fifty cent paperback or that first edition Dickens you've been ogling since you first walked into this dusty little hole-in-the-wall I call a bookstore, just pick a book and it's yours."

"No, Gracie, I ca--"

"If you say you 'can't' I'm gonna force you to take the Dickens. Now, you've been my most loyal customer for five years now, and beyond that, you've been a good friend. Now, take the nice lady up on her offer. Go. Browse." Rory smiled at her and hurried up the ladder to the shop's balcony. Her favorite place in the store.

When Gracie had first opened her shop (officially called _The Radley House_ but known to all the regular customers as _Gracie's_) she had ignored conventional rules for bookstores and gone for chaos over clean. The books were in no particular order. To find something you had to dig and dig and dig, and occasionally you would come across a real treasure.

It did not take much digging for Rory to find something that evening, but she definitely did not think it was a treasure.

Sitting between an old, dog-eared copy of The Stranger and a children's book about Hannukah was a cloud of tangled, gravity-defying brown hair.

Rory ignored it at first. There was nothing particularly unique about it. Whoever owned it was merely another customer. She began to browse, picking up a Hemmingway, exchanging it for Bronte.

"Rory!" Gracie was at the foot of the ladder calling up to her. "Ror, I got in a couple I thought you might like yesterday. They're in your corner!"

Rory turned to the back corner of the balcony, a spot that she had claimed as her own early on, and where she liked to go to read or think or write. Most people stayed away from it, and it was almost an unspoken agreement between Rory and Gracie that this corner was "hers."

As she walked to her corner she did not notice the bird's nest look up. A few minutes later Gracie shouted again, though not to her this time.

"Hey, Jess, sweetie, you still up there?"

"Don't call me sweetie, Gracie," the bird's nest replied.

Rory looked up. The name, the voice. Jess Mariano was sitting ten feet away from her. Not only that, he was staring at her.

Jess had never been very good at hiding his feelings. When he was mad, he was mad. When he was upset, he was upset. It was a character flaw of his, the inability to conceal his emotions. Or, at least, that was the way he saw it. Now, though, watching Rory, his face was masked with indifference. For a moment they just stared at each other, saying nothing. It was Gracie who finally interrupted their silence.

"Alright then, Honey," she said, pulling herself up the ladder. By the time she reached the top she was panting. Gracie was not fat, but she was plump, round in a nice way, and she didn't notice the tension between her two customers. "I've been meaning to ask you, Honey," she said, referring to Jess, "have you met Rory?" She gestured to the corner, where Rory was shooting him dangerous looks.

He paused for a moment before saying, "No, Gracie, I don't believe I have." He smiled at Rory, and even from across the room he could see her let out the breath she had been holding.

"Imagine that!" Gracie exclaimed, throwing back her head and spreading her arms. "My two best customers, and you've never met? How outrageous!"

"Yeah, well, what do you know," Jess said.

"Well, this must be remedied!" She shuffled over to Rory and grabbed her wrist, dragging her over to Jess. "Jess, this is Rory; Rory, Jess."

"Nice to meet you," he said honestly. He held out his hand to shake.

She looked at him strangely. "Hi." She shook his hand as quickly as possible and then turned to Gracie. "I think I should go. You know, busy night ahead of me and all."

"Did you pick out a book yet?"

Rory held up a copy of Nine Stories. "Second edition. Is that okay?"

"You're sure you don't want the Dickens?"

"I'm not going to take a first edition Oliver Twist without paying you for it."

"Fine." Gracie pulled her into a tight hug. "So, what exactly are you going to do tonight?" she asked.

"I don't know," Rory said. "We'll see where the night takes me."

"Stay safe," Gracie said. "Have fun in Bahrain or wherever it is you're going."

"I'm not sure that's the idea, exactly."

"Yes, well, try your hardest." She smiled and stepped back from the girl. "And don't forget to write!" she said, pointing her finger accusingly.

"I won't," Rory said, holding her hands up in mock defense. With one last hug Rory headed down the ladder and out of the store. Behind her she heard Jess tell Gracie he was going to head out, too.

The city was lighting up in neon as she stepped onto the street. At age 17 New York (or the Big Apple as she had called it then) may have been a mystery to her, but now she was capable of navigating it in her sleep. She headed towards Times Square, her brief run-in with Jess quickly dissipating in the magic of the city.

"Still scared of the subway?" asked a voice in her ear. She jumped about a foot in the air.

"You followed me?" she asked, not daring to stop walking on the busy sidewalk.

"Honest curiosity." He put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her over to a building where they could stop without disrupting the sidewalk traffic. She shook the hand off. "See, now I've got to know what Gracie was talking about."

"What?" She avoided eye contact, trying to act like she had somewhere to rush off to.

"Bahrain?"

She gave in, turning to face him completely. "I'm a reporter."

He nodded, but did not look particularly surprised. "TV?"

"Yup."

"How come I haven't seen you before?"

She straightened and shot him her biggest TV grin. "This has been Laura Hayden with MTV News."

"Laura Hayden?"

"Mature enough to earn respect, but still MTV appropriate."

"MTV?"

She glared.

"Right, sorry." He smiled. "And MTV sends reporters to Bahrain?"

She shook her head. "No, but CNN does."

"Classy."

"I'm probably not going to be on TV much. It's more of a back-up position." She looked down at her feet and wrapped her arms around herself as a gust of cool air blew past them.

"Well, I guess you take what you can get."

"I guess."

What had become a comfortable conversation quickly reverted back to awkward. After a moment Rory said, "I should probably go. You know, places to go, people to see."

"I thought you told Gracie you didn't have any plans."

"Well, not technically," she said, realizing she had been caught. "I just, I'd planned on spending tonight alone."

"Oh," he said. "Okay." He nodded and stepped back. "Well, then have a nice trip, I guess." _Have a nice life._

"Yeah. Okay." She stuck out her hand to shake. "Bye."

He took it. "Bye."

She let go and turned. "Bye," she said again, grounding herself.

She began to walk away. Thirty seconds later she turned around and ran back to where she had left him. He was still there, staring after her. When he saw her returning his eyes widened briefly in surprise. "Umm...hi," she said when she was once again standing in front of him.

"Hi."

"What are your thoughts on dinner?" she asked.

"I should eat some at some point."

She smiled. "I know a place."


	2. 8:00 to 9:00 Washington Square Park

Title: Before Sunrise  
Author: Rainwater Tears  
Rating: R  
Summary: Loosely based on the movie of the same title. He has one night to prove everything.  
Author's Note: To Ari for the chapter title idea (even if she doesn't know she gave it to me), and Leigh for beta-ing. Also to whoever the hell created 24, because that also had a little to do with the chapter titles.  
Disclaimer: I do not own _Gilmore Girls_. I do not own_ Before Sunrise. _I do not own _24_. I do not own New York City. I do not own Washington Square Park. I do not own the hot dog stand. I do not own the Empire State Building. Get the picture?

**Chapter Two:**

_8:00-9:00 PM - Washington Square Park_

"This looks kinda familiar," Jess said as they reached the corner hot dog stand.

"I thought it might," Rory replied. "One with everything," she told the vendor.

"Same."

Once they had paid for their hot dogs they started towards Washington Square Park.

"Yup, just as good as I remember," Jess announced, once he'd taken a bite.

"Remember? You don't go there anymore?" she asked as she wiped a bit of relish from the corner of her mouth and licked it off her finger.

"My dad," he puased, "he runs a hot dog stand out in LA."

"Oh," she said. "Your dad?"

"My dad," he nodded. "Anyway, I got sick of hot dogs pretty fast when I was out there. Plus, the way Jimmy makes a hot dog. Man, one dog can take hours."

"Hours?"

He grinned at her. "Well, maybe not hours, but he puts so much care into each one. I mean, you'd think relish wouldn't be so hard. Dump a few spoonfuls on, spread it around, but not the way Jimmy Mariano does it. No, Jimmy's like, OCD when it comes to relish."

"Sounds like you guys got along pretty well."

Jess laughed. "No. No, no, no. He's...he's insane. He's a good guy, I guess, but we fought most of the time I was there."

"About what?"

"My ambitions, shit like that. He thought I was turning out too much like him. Dropping out of high school, running away from my problems. I don't know, maybe he was right. He ended up kicking me out."

She dropped her head. "Is that when you came back to Stars Hollow?"

He looked over at her, but she was carefully avoiding him. "No. I bounced around the country a little, taking buses, staying with old friends. When I ran out of cash I crashed on a friend's couch here in the city. I called my mom and she told me Luke had my car and the next thing I knew I was at the side of the road just outside Stars Hollow with a dead car and Luke, Liz, and Gypsy to face." He too looked down. "And you."

Neither of them said anything as they finished their hot dogs. His words hung in the air between them.

Finally she broke the silence. "You went to California?"

"Yup."

"LA?"

"Yup."

"Cliche much?"

He laughed. "I guess it is."

"Luke never said. He told Mom he knew where you were, but that was it."

Jess didn't respond.

"You could have told me you were leaving." The words were quiet, whispered, almost to the point where they were inaudible.

"No, Rory. No, I couldn't have." He was equally quiet. Weakness was not something Jess liked to admit to. If he had to be weak he would do it as forcefully as possible. He would yell and fight his way through, only giving in to run away, and only running away when he thought he could make it look like he was chasing something. Now he stood there admitting defeat.

"I mean, I had to step off that bus knowing that I probably wouldn't see you again; don't think I didn't see the bag there, it was right next to you, and you were on a bus to Hartford in the middle of a school day."

He didn't say anything, just listened to her.

"You told me you couldn't take me to prom, Jess. And then you didn't even say goodbye. It hurt, Jess." She was not yelling at him, and she did not seem angry. She just seemed sad, lonely, the way she avoided his eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I didn't know _how_ to tell you, Rory." He sighed. "I never know how to tell you things. It was like you were always so far away."

"Far away?"

"Not literally, but...you were preparing yourself for Yale or, I don't know. You were so busy with your finals that week."

"Not so busy that you couldn't tell me you were leaving. If there was something big going on with you I would have wanted to know."

He had to strain to hear her words, she was so quiet. A giggling group of teenage girls on a nearby bench didn't help. "Hindsight is twenty/twenty, I guess."

"I guess."

They were silent for awhile. The night seemed cooler then, and the sun had finally set, sinking the sky into the deep purple hues of evening. It was the darkest New York ever got, between the lights and the pollution. As if noticing this for the first time, Rory looked up into the velvet shadows of the sky with a smile.

"No stars here," he said. She turned to look at him and realized just how close he was standing. Had it been anyone else she would have emphasized her 'personal bubble,' but with Jess she chose instead to worship the way his breath puffed lightly against her cheek, and she shivered as his fingers brushed her elbow.

"No, no stars," she repeated. She had forgotten his eyes. _How had she forgotten his eyes?_

"Don't you miss them?" he asked. He seemed unaffected by their closeness. She didn't know that his heart was clinging to his rib cage to keep itself from exploding out of his chest. She didn't know that behind the warm pools of his eyes lay a mix of joy that she was here with him and terror that the night would end. She didn't know that in the past two hours with her he had questioned himself more times than in all the years they had been apart.

"Not so much." And it was true. Of course there were nights when the fog pressed against her chest so hard that the world went black and her ears rang. Nights when the only cure was to pull herself under the covers and call home, even if it was just to hear her mother's voice on the answering machine. At that moment, though, standing there together in the city, barely touching, she forgot the word "miss," and "homesick," "lonely," "angry." The only thing that seemed real anymore was the two of them, and even then she wasn't so sure.

"Oh my god! Are you serious!"

The shout came from one of the teenagers, but it might as well have been Emily Gilmore herself the way Rory reacted. She stepped away from Jess as quickly as possible, leaving his left hand in midair, his fingers splayed and molded to the exact shape of her right elbow.

"Have you been to the Empire State Building?" she asked as she rushed up ahead of him. "Oh, what am I talking about, of course you have. I've only been there once. Geez, all this time in the city and I've only been once. Kinda sad don't you..." she continued to ramble as he hurried to catch up to her.

"Rory."

"...I mean, it's like, the emblem of New York. The Empire State? I think I should..."

"Rory!"

"...I mean, just because you live in the city doesn't mean you can't do something compeletely tourist-ey every now..."

"RORY!"

"What?" she stopped a good ten feet ahead of him and turned.

"Slow down a little, would ya? I can't keep up."

She smiled at him, a brilliant smile that knocked him back through time and space to Stars Hollow, circa 2002.

-

_Okay, tomorrow I will try again, and you will. . . _

_Give the painful Ernest Hemingway another chance. Yes, I promise. _

_You know, Ernest only has lovely things to say about you._

-

He could feel a breeze off the cold gray water and smell the coming spring, but all he could see was the blue of her eyes, the pink of her lips and white of her teeth as she smiled.

"Are you coming?"

The image before him bled away. Rory had returned to him, her smile fading to a concerned frown. The smells of spring were gone, replaced with late summer's afternoon heat dying on the sidewalk. Happier memories gone, washed away like watercolors, but leaving his heart full.

"Where did you go?" she asked.

"Nowhere," he said. "Just...remembering."

The corners of her lips turned up in a faint smile. He wanted to reach out and trace them with his own. "So, are we going?" she asked after a moment.

"Yeah, we're going."


	3. 9:00 to 10:00 Empire State Building

Title: Before Sunrise  
Author: Rainwater Tears  
Rating: R  
Summary: Loosely based on the movie of the same title. He has one night to prove everything.  
Disclaimer: Yeah. Right. Sure.  
Author's Note: To Leigh for beta-ing, and to memories of season 2.

**Chapter Three:  
**_9:00-10:00 PM - Empire State Building_

"It's beautiful," Rory said. Her fingers were laced around the strong metal fencing as though she feared she would fall over the side, despite the building's multiple precautions. Even so, she leaned as far over as one physically could, taking in the view with all of her being.

"It's just New York." He had barely glanced past the fencing when they reached the top. Now, he stood a few feet away from the rail.

"You're jaded."

"I've lived in the city since birth. I've seen it."

She chose not to mention his furlough from New York. "I've lived in Stars Hollow my entire life. I'm not jaded."

"Well, Taylor's probably made a law against it. Anyone who threatens boredom with the constant string of festivals gets run out of town."

"He never ran you out of town."

"He tried," Jess laughed. "Besides, I kept things interesting around there. I bet they still haven't found anyone good enough to fill my shoes as the town hoodlum."

"No one I know of. Luke did hire Brennan Lewis for awhile the year aftmy Freshman year," she quickly corrected herself. "Not a hoodlum, but annoying enough to drive diner customers away."

"Oh yeah?"

"He didn't wash his hands. Ever."

Jess chuckled. "Did Taylor lodge a formal complaint?"

Rory turned her back on the city and rested against the wall behind her. "Doesn't he always?"

"I'm sure Luke loved that."

"Well, you know how stubborn Luke is. He didn't fire Brennan until he ran into a line of his customers outside Weston's bakery, and even then the final straw was finding the guy playing air guitar on one of the diner tables."

Jess nodded. "Been there myself."

Rory laughed and shook her head. "You have not. You're too shy to do something like that."

"Shy? Me?" She could not tell whether he was actually surprised by her analysis.

"You are!"

He laughed. "Okay, fine, I never played air guitar on top of Luke's tables. But only because I was too busy plotting...subtler pranks."

"Oh, yeah, chalk outline on the sidewalk...real subtle."

Jess smirked. He stared past her into the sea of lights that composed New York. "I guess it is kind of pretty," he said after a minute. "In a polluted, grimy, crime-filled way."

"The trick is to look past all that," Rory said. "Maybe it's because I know it'll be awhile before I see it again, but I don't think New York has ever looked as beautiful as it does right now."

She had turned back to face the sky scrapers, but he knew her eyes were alive with the colorful lights. He stood behind her, resting his hands against the rail on either side of her slim frame. An outsider might think they were a couple. He leaned close and felt her hair tickle his left cheek.

"Maybe you're right," he said.

"Of course I'm right. I'm always right." She laughed and the sound echoed in his ear like a music box tucked into the deepest folds of his memory.

"Can I ask you a question?" he whispered in her ear.

"Depends on what it is." She turned her head slightly to face him. Their cheeks were almost touching.

"Why are you here?" The question almost choked him on its way out. It tore through his throat and ripped at his tongue.

"What?"

"Why are you here? I mean, this is your last night in the United States for God knows how long. Why are you spending it with me?"

"I...I'm not...I..." She turned away from him and pressed herself against the fencing to create distance.

He could sense her apprehension. "Okay, rephrase. Why aren't you spending tonight with Lorelai?"

She relaxed a little, but still didn't let down her guard. She had not been prepared for his original question, had not wanted it, and knew that if she had had to answer it she would have ended up ruining the magic of the night.

"She's in Italy. My grandmother is attempting to spoil Emma rotten, starting with early travel."

"Jealous?"

Rory laughed. "Just a little. Anyway, I spent some quality time with Mom before they left. She came up to visit for a few days and we went shopping."

"Sounds...not at all fun."

"Well, it was." She had turned to face him again once the conversation had returned to a topic she found comfortable, and her last statement was emphasized with a light stomp. "You're a guy. You wouldn't understand."

"Right," he said. "Sorry."

For awhile they just stood there, appreciating the cooler, cleaner air they found high above the city.

"Imagine what it must have been like when they first built this. It was the highest building in the world."

He nodded, failing to see why the idea excited her so much, but welcoming the fact that it did. "It's still the tallest building in the city."

"Not still," she corrected. "Again."

"Again."

The wind kicked up then, catching Rory by surprise and knocking her into Jess. "Oops," she breathed.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

He was holding her in what would apear to be a low dip to anyone who had not seen her not-so-graceful tumble, and he made no move to stand her back up. She made no move to stand herself back up. "Windy," she finally said.

"That it is."

When she finally did move she stepped back from him and leaned against the wall. "I didn't think it would be this cold. I left my sweater in my locker at the port authority."

"Do you want my sweatshirt?" he asked, nodding to the worn gray pull-over he was wearing.

"Won't you be cold?"

"I'll be fine," he said, knowing all the while that it was a lie. "Really!" he swore.

"Okay, if you're sure."

He pulled the sweatshirt over his head and she watched as the fabric of his thin cotton t-shirt rode up with it. The maroon vintage tee slid over the dark skin of his stomach and she felt herself shudder, not from the cold, but from the heat rising through her body and coloring her cheeks. As soon as he handed her the sweatshirt she yanked it over her head to hide her face.

"Does it fit?" he asked.

"It's huge!"

The material enveloped her upper body and then some, sliding past her hips and halfway down her thighs. The pull-over was redolent of everything Jess, from stale cigarettes to the faint cologne he had worn even in high school.

"Looks good on you," he said with a smile.

She laughed the compliment off. "At least it's warm."

"Good." Another burst of wind hit with equal force and Rory watched as the goosebumps danced their way up his arm.

"Oh, Jess, you're freezing!" She started to pull the sweatshirt back over her head, but Jess stopped her.

"If you give that back to me I wont wear it!" Jess said.

"Jess."

"I'll throw it over the side."

"Jess!"

"Rory!"

"Fine, then neither of us will wear it." She took the pull-over off and rolled it up in her arms. She faced him, defiant to the core.

"Alright," he said, "fine, but don't sue me when your fingers start to fall off."

"I won't."

"Good."

"Good."

Rory stood stock still for a full minute, absolutely refusing to shiver, denying her goosebumps, and Jess, the privledge of knowing just how cold she was. She found a limp sleeve of the sweatshirt with her fingertips and wrapped her fist around it in an effort to find something, anything, that would keep her from falling, tumbling, into defeat. She had been born with her mother's stubborn will, had she not? She had, and she was not going to give in, not for anything. If anyone was going to give in it was Jess, abso-tiv-o-lutely.

"Cold?" he asked. _Was he laughing at her?_

"No." She shook her head once and looked down, rocking back onto her heels and hugging the sweatshirt tighter against her chest. As she looked back up their eyes caught in a staring contest, a battle of wills. Finally, she gave in. She shivered.

"Do you wnat to go back to the port authority and get your sweater?"

"Maybe," she said as she nodded a "yes."

"Alright, we'll go."

"Okay." She smiled at him and they turned toward the elevator.


	4. 10:00 to 11:00 Jody's Bar

Title: Before Sunrise  
Author: Over Your Bones (aka Rainwater Tears)  
Rating: R (or, by the new standards...M?)  
Summary: Loosely based on the movie of the same title. He has one night to prove everything.  
Disclaimer: No. Not a chance in hell.

* * *

**Chapter Four:  
**_10:00-11:00 PM - Jody's Bar_

* * *

Jody's was not the type of place Rory generally frequented. It was not that she never went to bars, because she did, but she preferred the friendly atmosphere of her usual haunt, March, to the dark, loud fog of Jody's.

"Come on," Jess said over the din of the large room. He grabbed her by the wrist and led her in a twisting path to the bar. "Hey Jody!" he greeted the blond bartender.

"Jess!"

She was young, maybe 25, with bright green eyes and hair that fell about halfway down her back. She was very pretty, and Rory was surprised by the surge of jealousy that struck her as she watched the woman hug her ex.

"I was beginning to think you were never coming back. I haven't seen you in months. Where have you been?"

"Around," Jess said in the vague way that told Rory that, yes, this was still the Jess Mariano she had known so many years before.

Jody smacked him on the arm.

"Alright, alright," Jess winced. "I got a new job. It takes up most of my time."

As he spoke a tiny girl with a shock of hot pink in her dark brown hair came up behind Jody. "Hey Jess," she said with a quiet voice and a smile that showed off her hot pink braces.

"Hi Tiff."

The girl wrapped her arms around Jody's waist and Rory relaxed, realization setting in.

"Who's the chicka?"

Jess glanced over at her. "This is Rory."

'Tiff,' as Jess had called her looked Rory over and nodded her approval. "Nice to meet you, Rory," she finally said.

"Hi."

Jody had yet to actually speak to Rory, but she was watching her closely. Rory wondered whether Jess had told the bartender stories of their history. Jess didn't seem to notice, though, and while he carried on a conversation with Tiff, Jody continued to watch Rory. A man at the bar was hitting on her, and she was warding off his advances as best she could.

"You know, my apartment has got a killer view," the man said as he placed his beer down on the counter and swung around to face her better.

"Well, that's very nice for you," Rory responded, annoyed.

"You could come on over and see it if you wanted."

"I think I'll pass."

The man would not give up. "Are you sure? It's not every day you get to see a view like this."

Rory nodded, "I'm sure." She chose not to tell him that she had been at the top of the Empire State Building 20 minutes prior.

"Hey, leave her alone, she's with him!" Jody said, gesturing to Jess. Rory felt all the blood in her body rush to her face and color her cheeks as everyone within a 5 foot radius turned to look at her.

She found herself suddenly grateful for the dark of the room.

The man glanced at Jess and backed off, choosing instead to set his sights on a poor girl in fishnets at the other end of the bar.

"Thank you," Rory said quietly to Jody.

People started to go back to what they were doing, but Rory could not help but notice that Jess seemed distracted. Jody set what looked like a Shirley Temple down in front of Rory, and Rory gave her an appreciative smile. She handed Jess a soda with a small nod.

"Thanks Jo," he said. He took a sip and set the glass down next to Rory. When he leaned against the counter behind her she was filled with the feeling that he was protecting her. It was comforting and flattering, despite being a bit old-fashioned. His hand brushed her shoulder and she felt the heat of his touch ripple through her body.

"Eep!" Rory bolted off her stool when her cell phone started vibrating in the pocket of her pale yellow cardigan. The people who had been staring before were back. "Sorry," Rory said, "sorry." She pulled the offender out and answered it. "Hello?"

"Hey babe!"

"Mom, hi!"

"Where are you?"

"Oh, I'm in a bar, hang on a sec." She put her hand over the mouthpiece. "I'll be back in a second," she told Jess before heading to the sanctuary of the (slightly) quieter bathroom. "Okay," she told her mother once she got there, "I'm all yours."

"Did you say you were in a bar?" Lorelai asked.

"Yeah."

"Did I dial the right number? This couldn't be Rory Gilmore I'm talking to."

"Relax," Rory laughed. "I'm having a shirley temple."

"Aww, there's my angel child."

The bathroom door swung open and a petite blond ran in with her hand over her mouth. She rushed into a stall and Rory heard her vomit a night of drinking into the toilet.

"So, what are you doing in a bar?" The overseas call was weak, but Lorelai's energy carried her voice across the ocean.

"Hanging out with a friend."

"Hmm, vague..." Lorelai pondered the implications. "I take it that means a male friend. A male friend named Roger, perhaps?"

"No, Mom," Rory sighed, "Roger and I broke up. You know that."

"I know, I know," Lorelai sighed as well, "I just thought he might have changed his mind."

"Well, he didn't, and I don't expect him to. I'm leaving the country, Mom. Can't you see where he's coming from?"

"I guess." She was quiet for a moment and Rory worried that the call had been cut off. When Lorelai spoke again, Rory relaxed. "So, if it's not Roger, than who is it?"

"Jess," Rory mumbled.

"Who?"

"Jess," she said a little louder.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, this is a bad connection. I thought you said 'Jess.'"

Rory sighed deeply. "I did."

"Jess? You're at a bar with Jess?" Lorelai didn't seem mad, just confused.

"Yes."

"Yes, it's Jess?"

"You're getting annoyingly repetitive in your old age, Mother."

Lorelai tossed off the comment. "Rory, sweetie, baby, darling, are you telling me that you are at a bar with Jess Mariano, your ex-boyfriend, Mr. Can't-commit-so-I-think-I'll-run-across-the-country Mariano?"

"Yes."

"But why?" Rory could hear Lorelai's confusion. It was a nice contrast to the seething anger she was expecting.

"We go to the same bookstore." Rory leaned back against the graffitied wall of the bathroom.

"The same bookstore?"

"Yeah. You know Gracie's."

"I do."

"Well, Jess goes there."

The blond girl came out of the stall with her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail on top of her head. Rory watched as she walked over to the sink, washed her mouth out, and splashed some cool water on her face. The girl pulled her hair out, smiled at herself in the mirror, and rushed back out into the crowd. Rory shook her head in amazement.

"Wait," Lorelai said, "are you saying that you've been seeing Jess since you started going to Gracie's?"

"No. We've never run into each other before tonight. It was the strangest thing. We were both there and Gracie introduced us."

"So, what? You're telling me that it was fate that you ran into Jess tonight?"

"No. I don't...I don't know. Maybe?"

"Rory, you're going to Bahrain."

"I know."

"You're leaving the country for an extended period of time."

"I'm aware."

"So...what are you doing?"

Rory sighed and turned so that her back was against the wall. "I have no idea."

"Well, maybe that's something you need to figure out."

"I know." Rory felt like she was a teenager again, seeking her mother's help with 'boy problems.' Why did Lorelai have to be so wise all the time? "So what are you doing up this early anyway?"

"Ugh. Emily."

The familiarity caused Rory to smile. "Say no more. Where are you going today?"

"The Colosseum. I tried to tell Mom that Emma wouldn't remember this trip anyway, and that shopping was a much better use of our time here, but she wouldn't listen.

"Let me guess, you wanted to take pictures as you drove past to show Emma while you tell her a story about the completely fictional 'cute thing' she did while you were there," Rory accused.

"Hey, that was once! And how was I supposed to know you would develop an actual interest in politics because of it?"

"You told me I asked a senator about the system of checks and balances!"

"Well," Lorelai said, "I didn't think you would believe me."

"Well I did."

"Yeah, yeah. Anyway, I should go," Lorelai said changing the subject. "I just wanted to talk to you one more time before you left."

"I'm glad you did."

"Have fun, stay safe, get famous."

"Mom, that's not the point."

"But it'll be a nice little benefit," Lorelai joked. "Stay safe, though. Promise me."

"I promise."

"Okay. Bye, sweetie!"

"Bye, Mom." Rory closed the phone. Resting her head against the wall she sighed deeply. She felt a few tears slip past her eyelids and slide down her cheeks. The reality of her departure had just hit her. She was leaving. _Leaving_.

"Rory?" Jody peeked her head in the door. "Jess wanted me to che–are you okay?" She walked the rest of the way into the room.

"I'm fine," Rory said. She brushed the tears away quickly and sniffed. Her words did nothing to stop the look of concern etched across Jody's face.

"You're crying. That's not something that's generally associated with the word 'fine.'"

"I'm just sad."

"Because you're leaving?"

Rory looked up at her in surprise.

"You've been in here awhile," Jody explained.

"Oh," Rory nodded.

"You ready to come back out?"

Rory nodded again. "Yeah, let's go."

Back at the bar Tiff was attempting--and failing--to convince Jess to dance with her. Rory sat down on the stool beside him.

"Come on, Jess, it'll be fun," she pleaded. She gave him her best, most colorful smile.

"How many times do I have to tell you I don't dance?"

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Tiff joked, "I'm deaf in one ear and have a short-term memory problem."

"Tiffany Anne Mader, are you bothering Jess again?" Jody asked.

"Just a little," Tiff admitted.

"Good girl." Jody rushed off to serve a couple who had just arrived.

"Here, Rory, I relinquish my crown to you," Tiff said, throwing an invisible tiara in Rory's general direction. "You convince him."

Jess turned to Rory with a smirk plastered across his face. "Yeah, Rory, you convince me."

Put on the spot, Rory felt herself blush a bit. "Oh, no," she said, "I don't dance."

"Really?" Jess asked, "Because I seem to recall a time when you did." He laughed. "I believe there was a bull-horn involved. Horrifying experience."

"Exactly, horrifying experience. Besides, I was not acting under my own free will. You've met my mother. You know what she's like."

"Your mother has never persuaded me to do anything," Jess asserted, "and if she has it was to make her hate me, which I definitely succeeded at, and which I'm starting to think was her goal all along."

"She was nice to you at the wedding."

"Luke threatened to withhold sex," Jess said dryly.

"He did not."

"He did, too!"

"Well, don't tell me that, I don't want to know that!" She covered her face with her hands. "Ew!"

Jess laughed at her. "I'll dance if you dance," he said, returning to their original topic.

"You're only saying that because you don't think I'll do it."

"Prove me wrong," he said.

"Okay, fine." She turned on the stool so she was facing him. "We'll dance." She grabbed his wrist and pulled him out onto the dance floor just as a slow song came on.

Rory could read the surprise in Jess's face. "Don't tell me to prove something unless you actually want me to prove it." She smiled at him and wrapped her arms around his neck, trying to pretend that the closeness wasn't driving her insane. When he finally reacted it was to pull her even closer. She sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder. Every place their bodies touched burned. He was fire and she was ice. It was painful to even be near him, but she could not get enough. This was the feeling she had looked for for so long. The feeling that she had thirsted for with Dean, Logan, Mike, Scott, Roger.

The song ended and she slowly pulled away, sliding her arms down from his shoulders and enjoying the way the burn of her skin on his traveled along them. She wondered if it would leave scorch marks or scars to remember the night by.

"Hey, how's your mom?" Jess asked conversationally as they walked back to the bar.

It took Rory a moment to register that he had asked her a question. "I'm sorry, what?"

"How's Lorelai? That's who called, right?"

"Oh," Rory said, "right. Mom called. She's good. Grandma's dragging her to see all the historical stuff, ruins and museums."

"And she just wants to go shopping?"

"Indeed, she does. The trip is supposed to be for Emma's benefit, but she's three. She really isn't going to remember it."

"I don't know. She's an intelligent little girl."

"You've met Emma?" Rory asked, surprised.

"Oh yeah," Jess said. "Luke brings her to the city when he comes to visit. She calls me 'Uncle Jess.'"

Rory laughed. "Mom's doing?"

"Luke's actually." Jess smiled. "Payback's a bitch, I guess."

"Guess so."

"You ready to go?" They were back at the bar, leaning against the counter.

"I believe I am," Rory nodded.

"K, let me just say goodbye to Jody."

He returned a moment later and they headed for the door. The cooler air outside was just starting to reach them when Jess's words stopped her. "Hey Rory?"

"Yeah?" As she turned to face him time seemed to slow and all her senses kicked in. She could feel her hair brush over her shoulder and fall down her back, she could smell Jess's cologne, she could see a flash of pink as Tiff danced past them, she could hear the hum of voices all around, and she could taste...she could taste Jess. The distinctive essence that was 'Jess.'

And that was when she realized he was kissing her.


	5. 11:00 to 12:00 Jess's Apartment

Title: Before Sunrise

Author: Rainwater Tears (Elizabeth)

WARNING! This is where the fic becomes rated R (or whatever they're calling it these days)! CAUTION!

Author's Note: Dedicated to Leigh for making me write, and the Lit Thread, just because I love you guys. And to Ari, because you're the most awesome (de)bata-er(ist).

**Chapter 5**

_11:00 PM to 12:00 AM - Jess's apartment_

It was like coming to. Everything blurred together. Light and dark, black and white, yin and yang. For a moment everything had been the two of them, and the world had fallen away. When they pulled apart the first thing she noticed was his hands. They were wrapped around her wrists, the grip firm but gentle. His thumb brushed lightly over a vein and she shuddered.

"You're not running," he whispered in the almost silence between songs.

"No."

He kissed her again then. And again, and again, and again. He backed her up against the wall of the bar, pushing her arms up over her head. The music was pulsing through the wall in time to her heartbeat. Faster, faster, faster! She thought she was going to explode. She thought he was going to explode. And she didn't think she cared.

"Get a room," a man muttered to his companion as he passed. The words broke their spell and brought them crashing back to reality. Rory was breathing heavily, trying desperately to replace the air she had lost. Jess, too, was gulping for breath. He was leaning towards her, one hand to prop him against the wall, one pressed to his heart.

"Wow," Rory said.

"That's some Ivy League vocab you've got," Jess replied, too happy to put much into his sarcasm.

"Yeah, I had to look that one up."

He smiled at her, a smile he felt building in his stomach and rising to his mouth with the kind of warmth that comes after a good meal. It was honest. So honest that she blushed a bright pink and had to look down.

"Hi," he whispered.

"Hi."

He laughed. "Come on." He grabbed her wrist and pulled her out the door. Giggling, she followed him.

The air outside slipped across her flushed skin like satin: smooth, cool, and gentle. Where the club had been dense with body heat and sound, the sidewalk outside was empty. The air was thinner and easier to breathe. It reminded Rory of losing the hot water mid-shower. She was immediately cold, despite her sweater, and she shivered where she stood. Noticing, Jess wrapped his arm around her.

"What time is it?" he asked.

Her watch lit up a light blue for a moment while she checked. "11:07." She laughed. "It seems like so much later."

"It's been a busy night," Jess agreed.

"I've got seven hours and fifty-three minutes left."

"That's...very exact."

"Well, my bus leaves the Port Authority at 7:15. I want to be there early, though, so that I can get my stuff and find my bus and everything." She reached for the hand that was not wrapped around her shoulder and laced her fingers through his.

"Where's the bus going to take you?" he asked.

"Newark. I didn't want to take a taxi, and the bus is cheaper."

She examined their hands, the way their fingers linked together. His were larger than hers, rougher. His looked like the hands of a man. They were hands that had labored, written, and fought.

Her hands looked fragile in comparison. Her fingers were thin and pale. Aside from a writer's bump she had developed on the middle finger of her right hand (the result of endless note taking in her Chilton years) they were unmarred. Perfect.

But the stark contrast between their hands, the differences in skin tone, texture, and size, looked natural in the lights of the city. When she rested her head on his shoulder and buried her face in the warmth of his neck she felt herself falling into place. She kissed his neck. "I missed you," she whispered.

"I missed you, too." He couldn't tell whether or not she heard him. She merely snuggled her face further into the crook of his neck. "Hey," he said into her ear, "you ready to get going?"

She looked up at him. "Sure. Where are we going?"

He laughed. "I don't know. Where do you want to go?"

"Somewhere warm," she told him with a nod. "Somewhere very warm…and cozy."

"I think I know just the place."

They didn't walk for very long. A few blocks down the street and to the left. When he stopped abruptly on what seemed to be a quiet street, she thought maybe he was lost.

"We're here."

"And where's here?" she asked. If they weren't lost, then why had they stopped on a residential block?

To answer her question he took her hand and led her to the front door of one of the apartment buildings lining the street. "'Here' is my apartment."

She smiled at him. "Your apartment, huh? Are you trying to seduce me, Mr. Mariano?"

He laughed. "That depends, are you seduce-able?"

She paused and turned to face him. "Are you quoting _A Walk to Remember_?"

Jess sighed.

Rory started to laugh. "You quoted _A Walk to Remember_? You? Jess Mariano? You quoted _A Walk to Remember_?"

"It's Lily's fault!" he exclaimed. "She made me watch it! I had no choice!" He shoved his key into the lock and pushed the door open. "If I had had any say in the matter I would not have seen the movie, not ever."

Rory continued to laugh.

"Stop laughing!"

"I'm sorry, it's just...you quoted _A Walk to Remember_, Jess, that's not going to go unnoticed." Once she had finally calmed down enough, she asked him the question she was dreading the answer to. "So who's Lily?"

He led her through the door and up the first flight of stairs before he answered the question. "Lily is Jimmy's…daughter? Well, his girlfriend's daughter, anyway. She's without a doubt the smartest teenager I've ever met." He turned to her, "Present company excluded, of course."

She laughed, still slightly lightheaded from her fit on the sidewalk. "You quoted _A Walk to Remember_."

"Yeah, yeah," he sighed, as he guided her towards a dark green door at the end of the hallway.

"I'm sorry, Jess, it's just really funny." She put a hand over her mouth. "I'll try to stop giggling, really, I will." She let loose another faint laugh before catching her breath and straightening her spine. "Okay, I'm done."

"Good," he told her as he pushed the door open, "because there is to be no giggling in this apartment."

"What about chuckling?" she asked as she stepped over threshold.

He shook his head.

"Snickering?"

"Nope."

The apartment was what one might call modest. The ceilings were low, pressing down on them, and the living room, directly before them, was lined with bookshelves. Rory immediately knew that this was a place Jess spent a great deal of time. The floor was strewn with volumes, all paperback, and before the sagging couch Jess had set up a weak old card table with a laptop atop it.

"Your office?" she asked with a smile.

"That it is."

To her left was a kitchenette, cramped with a refrigerator, stove and toaster. This was what "living in squalor" must mean, she thought to herself. "I like it," she told him without hesitation. She was surprised when she found the words to be true. There was nothing fancy about Jess's apartment, there was nothing particularly special about it, but it was homey, comfortable, and she knew, without question, that it was Jess's, through and through.

"Good to know," he replied, "'cause if you hadn't it would have been the end of the world."

Rory laughed and then proceeded to kiss Jess into the wall.

"What was that?" Jess asked once he'd regained his sense of focus. "Not that I'm objecting."

"That," she told him, "was to shut you up."

He smiled down at her and wrapped an arm around her waist. "Oh yeah? Well, as I recall, you used to complain that I didn't talk enough."

"That was high school." She nodded, "Growing up has taught me that there are better things you could be doing with your mouth." She pressed her lips to his again.

"I thought I was supposed to be seducing you," he said between kisses.

"You were too slow!"

They were backed up against the door, both gasping for air. Rory had her hand fisted through the sleeve of Jess's t-shirt, holding on to him tight, like she was afraid to let go.

"I like your hair like this," he whispered, pulling a strand, "it's long again."

She smiled at him, "I missed it like this. Plus, MTV discourages short hair. It's all about the look, you know." She gave him her best VJ wink. It made him wince in pain.

"Never do that again," he told her.

"I never plan to. _Way_ too teenybopper for me, thank you very much. I'll stick with my stately handshake." She stuck her hand out for him to shake. He used it to pull her closer and kissed her again. "Or that could work." He pressed his lips to hers once more. "Just not with, you know, prime ministers or anything," she said between kisses. "CNN might frown on that."

"Mmmhmm," he mumbled, "whatever you say."

"You're very good at this," she told him. She was pressed so tight against the wall that her feet had started rise up off the ground. This was what they called passion, she thought. It was (oh so very much) better than plain old sex.

"Rory?" he asked.

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

"M'k."

The next time they came up for air, the room was spinning. She couldn't stand up straight, nor could she focus. What had happened to her quiet night? How had she gone from an innocent night of New York fun to making out with her ex-boyfriend against the wall of his apartment?

"I need to breathe," she told him, gasping for fresh air. "When did you learn to do that?"

"I've always known how to do that," he laughed.

"In high school?" she asked. "I don't remember anything quite that…intense happening in high school."

"Well, I didn't want to corrupt you!" He took a step away from her to ground himself. "Though the look on your mother's face if she'd walked in on that…priceless." He took a breath. "You want a glass of water?"

"Yes please."

She followed him into the dingy kitchenette and leaned back against the counter as he filled a glass with water for each of them. "I didn't think tonight was going to go like this," she confessed as he handed one to her.

"Oh yeah?" he asked. "How did you think tonight was going to go?"

"Quietly." She laughed. "I didn't think I'd end up making-out with you, that's for sure."

He smiled at her. "Why did you turn around?"

"What?"

"Why'd you turn around? After I followed you, you left but you came back. Why?"

She looked him in the eye, her face slanting up to gaze into his. "I don't know," she told him quite frankly. "Just…wanted to."

"Rory…"

"I really don't have an answer for you, Jess." She stepped towards him and reached for his hand. "I was in a state of shock, I wasn't thinking. Seeing you, tonight of all nights, I couldn't let you slip by me again."

"What do you mean 'slip by'?"

"All those times you came to town. You'd tell me things, ask me things, and once you'd left I'd just…I'd sit there and cry." She let go of his hand then, and watched as his fingers slid down her palm. His arm came to rest at his side. "I didn't want to watch you walk away again."

"You said no," he said. He didn't mean for it to come out so defensively, and the second the words were out he regretted saying them.

"You've got to be kidding me," she said, stepping back to where she'd stood before, her back against the edge of the counter. "You just showed up, Jess! You turned up at my dorm, started off about going to New York and leaving my entire life behind! How could you have expected me to say yes?" She threw her arms up into the air and spun around, grasping at the counter.

"I didn't expect you to say yes, but…you could have been nicer about saying no! Just because I don't always want to talk about my feelings doesn't mean I don't have any!"

"You just don't understand what it was like, do you? How could I trust you when you'd just walked out on me?"

"It always comes back to me then, doesn't it? I know I messed up, Rory; I've had to deal with that since I left, but never mind the things you did! Every problem we ever had with our relationship was my fault!" He slammed his own glass down in the tiny kitchen sink. The water splashed over his hand, and he watched as it beaded and slid over his calluses and blisters. He should have known things would end up this way.

"I never said it was all your fault." She was crying now, big sloppy tears. She had sunk down to the floor, sobbing into her knees. Her shoulders were shaking, and he was struck by how small she looked. Small and alone. He sunk down beside her but didn't reach out to her.

"Well sometimes it feels like it was." He wasn't yelling anymore, just upset. "It doesn't help when I know that that entire town thinks it had everything to do with me. I thought you were the only person who cared, and then even that wasn't true."

She looked up, her cheeks bright pink and her eyes bright red. "It was too true!" She wiped her eyes with the corner of her sleeve and straightened up where she sat. "I did care about you! Just because you were too dumb to see it—"

"Too dumb to see it? Rory, please! I was never what you wanted. I couldn't be Prince Charming. I couldn't make your mother like me; I couldn't even make your grandmother tolerate me!"

"Why do you assume that that was what I was looking for? I knew you weren't going to be that guy! If I'd wanted someone my mother liked I would have stayed with Dean, for God's sake! All I wanted was you." She once again reached out for his hand. She massaged his palm with her thumb, circling it gently over his rough skin.

"You're the one running out on me this time, you know," he told her quietly as he pulled her closer.

"I know," she said. She rested her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry I yelled," she whispered.

"So am I."

"I wanted tonight to be perfect. I guess I just didn't want to think about all the things that went wrong with us, when at that moment things were going so right."

He didn't know what to say to that. To be honest, the past had been beating on his brain like a drum set since the moment he had first seen her, torturing his gut with memories he couldn't suppress. As happy as he was to be standing next to her, it was like a constant reminder of his teenage mistakes. He couldn't escape the fear that she would turn on him, start yelling about the dumb things he did when he was 17, things he would take back in a heartbeat. Now she had and all it had left him with was an empty feeling.

"I'm sorry I left you," he told her, knowing it was all he could say.

"I'm sorry I couldn't make you stay."

He wrapped his arm around her firmly and kissed her cheek. "You didn't make me leave. You're the reason I stayed as long as I did."

She kissed him back, pulling him as close to her as she could. "I don't want to leave you, you know. Not after tonight."

"It wouldn't be fair to make you stay."

She pressed her lips to his once more, pushing him backwards on the floor. The tile was cold through his thin t-shirt, but he hardly noticed. Her weight above him kept him there, pinned to the floor of his kitchen, but entirely lost in space.

"I don't know what I'm doing," she whispered in his ear. "I don't know why I turned around; I don't know why I'm here." She kissed a line down his jaw. "But I don't want to be anywhere else."

"I don't either."

He kissed her back with such a vengeance that, had she been standing, would have knocked her over. Her heart was racing as he flipped her over and pressed her down into the floor. She loved the feel of his weight over her. She felt the warmth spread through her body and focus between her legs. "Jess."

"Mmm?" He kissed his way down her neck to the collar of her shirt.

"We're on the floor of your kitchen," she moaned as his hand slipped up the bottom of her shirt to cup her breast.

"Mmhmm?"

"This…" he nipped at her earlobe. "Oh God!" His finger grazed her nipple and she arched against him. "Oh God, Jess…don't you have a bed somewhere?"

He didn't answer her, only continued to place kisses on the soft skin behind her ears as he lifted her up. Together, they stumbled towards a door across the hall from the kitchenette. The door stuck, and Jess half-heartedly struggled with the handle for a full minute, choosing instead to focus on Rory. Finally he kicked the door, sending it flying open behind him, and he and Rory tumbling to the ground.

"Ouch," she groaned, but she quickly forgot the pain as he began to unbutton her shirt. "Mmmm…Jess…still not on a bed."

He helped her to her feet again, never once letting go of her lips. "Picky, picky, picky," he mumbled half-heartedly, as they collapsed onto the bed. It was old and rickety, sagging beneath their combined weight. Rory began to pull Jess's shirt up over his head, kissing her way down his stomach. This, she thought, was, without a doubt, a new experience.


	6. Interlude 12:00 to 2:00

**Title:** Before Sunrise

**Author:** Rainwater Tears

**Rating:** Whatever they're calling R these days.

**Author's Note:** This chapter (which, unlike the others, takes place over a period of 2 hours), is going to be shorter than usual. Why? Because it is two sections, brief moments during which Jess and then Rory think about the evening they've just had.

And the next chapter is already started, so (hopefully) it won't be too long before I get that done.

_**Interlude  
**_**Chapter 6 – Part 1  
****Between 12:00 and 1:00 AM: Jess's head.**

"Well, that was a new experience." They are stretched out beneath the sheet on Jess's bed, her head resting on his chest, his arm wrapped loosely around her waist. Her hair sticks to his skin in thick clumps. He wonders for a moment if she can hear his heartbeat. He has never been this warm or this comfortable. This is not like other one-night-stands.

"Sex?"

She laughs. "No, not sex. Please, Jess, I'm in my twenties. I didn't stop dating after you left." She shifts against him; runs a finger down his chest, circling his nipple slowly before sliding it down, down to his belly button. She traces the word _love_ across his skin in careful cursive. "Well, actually, come to think of it, I did. Didn't date anyone for about a year. It wasn't because of you, though. Or if it were, it was strictly a sub-conscious thing."

He hates to admit that her words made him happy. It hadn't been his place to deny her any potential relationships, yet he is thrilled to know that his departure had affected her in some way. That he had left something behind. He pushes the joy to the back of his mind, hides it behind the afterglow and the way she smells lying next to him. Sex and apples and his own lingering cologne. This is what she's leaving him with, and he wants it to be enough.

"What's so new?"

She is starting to fade, her eyelashes leaving him butterfly kisses as she drifts to sleep on his chest. "You," she whispers in her very last moment of consciousness. All of a sudden he is desperate. The clock on his nightstand says twelve thirty-nine. This night is going too fast.

It's not that he has never had a serious relationship, but for some reason this stage has never felt so important to him. He wants her here with him, awake. He wants to stare into her eyes and whisper the things that always make him wince in movies. Sweet nothings? He wants to hand her Shakespeare on a platter. Her breath evens out and he wishes he could remember the exact way her face looked as she came, not this distorted image.

What he does remember: her eyes locked onto his the moment before. They were sapphire blue, darkened by the moment. Her cheeks were flushed red and her mouth formed a perfect little o. She didn't scream.

He had always thought she'd be a screamer.

It was something in her nature, so demure on the surface, but something fiery underneath. There is so much of her mother in her.

She mumbles something into his chest. He wants so desperately to wake her.

_12:41._ 6 hours. 19 minutes.

_She can't leave._

"I love you, Rory." He pulls her a little closer, looks up at the ceiling, and concentrates on a crack running across his ceiling. _Don't leave me now._

---

**Chapter 6 – Part 2  
****Between 1:00 and 2:00 AM: Rory's head.**

When she wakes up she is very much alone. The bed is cold beside her and she feels a rush of loneliness. Something isn't right. She rises from the bed and wraps the sheet around her tightly. The apartment is cold as well. She knows immediately that she is the only one there. He has left her again.

"This isn't happening." She pushes the bedroom door open. "It isn't supposed to be this way." The living room is barren. His laptop is gone, and the card table is folded up against the wall. The books have disappeared from their sagging shelves. The only sound is the harsh drip, drip of the faucet.

Rory bolts awake. She knows without even glancing in a mirror that there will be a bright red spot on her cheek where it stuck to his chest. The loss of physical contact stings and she clutches the side of her face.

"It was just a dream."

She glances down to where Jess dozes beneath her. His face is calm, but he holds her tightly around the waist, as if he is afraid to let go. She wonders what he's dreaming.

The small digital clock beside his bed reads 1:24. An hour ago she was lying beneath him, staring up. It all seems so surreal now. Everything that has happened since she first saw him, nothing more than a mess of hair huddled over a book. Tonight was supposed to be special. She realizes that they have just redefined the word.

She remembers the way he looked, perfectly. The way his eyes opened wider, brown like chocolate...like coffee. His lip had sagged a little in the corner. It made her smile, the way he had looked so at peace. Her heart was racing, and he was completely calm, grinning down at her.

She had always thought he'd look…different. Not that she'd thought about it often, but she had been a teenage girl once, and at the time most of her fantasies had revolved around him.

Not that Rory Gilmore would _ever_ admit to sexual fantasies.

She glances back down at his face, memorizing the way his lip curls the tiniest bit to the right. The way his hair lies across his forehead and his eyes race behind the lids, chasing some dream.

She doesn't want to forget a second of this.

She snuggles down into his arms again and presses a kiss to his neck. "Sweet dreams," she whispers. "I love you."


	7. 3:00 to 4:00 Jess's Kitchen

Title: Before Sunrise  
Author: Rainwater Tears  
Rating: R or…M? Whatever.  
Author's Note: Dedicated to** Ari** for her super!awesome!crazy!amazingness. And her very talented beta skills. Also, this is the first fic I've ever written that's broken 100 reviews. You have no idea how happy that makes me! You guys rock!

--

_I get to leave first!_

Rory bolted awake at exactly 3:00 AM, flashes of the dream gliding through her memory, slowly fading in from black. She had been running, running faster and harder than she had ever run before, and Jess had been chasing her, his voice echoing in her ear. _"I love you, I love you, I love you."_

When she woke up she was sweating and crying. The tears burned as they slid down her face. She tried to breathe in, but choked on a sob, and the noise, a high pitched scream, woke Jess where he lay beside her.

"Rory?" he asked, yanking himself from sleep. "Rory, what's wrong?"

She tried to speak, tried to answer him, but could only watch, once again, as she ran, her short brown hair flying out behind her and her soft brown ballet flats slapping the cold pavement.

"Shh," Jess whispered. He pulled her towards him, buried her face in his neck. He didn't know why she was crying, but the heat of her tears against the soft skin of his neck was a burning reminder of his past mistakes, of all the times he had made her cry before. Her tears ate their way through to his heart like acid and left him burning for her. "Shh, Rory," he whispered into her hair. "Shh."

Rory clutched at Jess's wrist and watched as her fingernails (neatly trimmed) sank into his skin. He pressed his lips to the soft spot beneath her earlobe.

"Are you okay now?" he asked, once her breathing had slowed and some color had returned to her cheeks. She nodded and tugged a strand of hair behind her ear. She slowly loosened her grip on his wrist. Her nails had left half moon imprints in his arm.

"Sorry," she whispered. Her voice was hoarse from her tears.

"It's okay," he told her and pulled her a little closer. He slid a thumb across her cheek to wipe away a stray tear. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked her.

She lifted her head and looked him in the eye. He could see where her tears had darkened her eyelashes, clumping them together. "I'm leaving," she told him. Her voice was even and clear except for a slight wobble as her it trailed off. "I'm leaving."

"I know." He tried to ignore the way his heart constricted at her words. He looked down at her shoulder, a freckle he had only glimpsed once before. That had been the night his uncle caught him trailing kisses down her neck in the half-dark storeroom. She'd turned bright pink, apologized profusely on her way out the door, and ignored him for a day and a half.

When he looked back up he could see where her tears had dried, leaving the skin on her cheeks tight and stiff. "I'm not going to ask you to stay," he told her. "You know I can't do that."

She nodded. "I know." She lay her head down on his shoulder. "I wish you could." She kissed his neck.

For a moment they just sat, their bodies entwined with the sheets. "I don't think we're going to get any more sleep," Jess finally said. "Do you want some coffee?" She cupped his face in her hands, pulling him closer to her, and placed a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

"Yes please."

--

The air outside the bedroom was considerably colder, and Rory pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. Her body missed the feel of Jess's arms around it, and the overwhelming closeness of his breath on her cheek. She watched as he made the coffee, moving about the kitchen slowly.

"You grew up."

Jess looked up at the sound of her voice. "Huh?"

"You just…" she looked down at her fingers splayed across the counter. "You're grown up. You have your own place, your own kitchen…It's weird." He smiled at her and poured her a mug. She grinned back. "Did I grow up?"

He laughed. "Oh, please. You were always grown up." He handed her the mug.

"Ha!" She stared down into the mug with a frown. "Not always."

He raised an eyebrow and poured his own mug. "Not always?"

Rory shook her head. "Nope." She took a sip of coffee before setting the mug back down on the counter. "I dropped out of Yale."

"What!" He nearly dropped his own mug in surprise. "You dropped out of Yale?"

She traced a formless pattern across the counter with the tips of her fingers. "I went back after a semester. I think I went temporarily insane or something. I stole a yacht with my boyfriend and dropped out of college." She winced a little before looking up.

"Huh."

She nodded.

"You stole a yacht?"

She nodded again.

"Huh."

"I lived with my grandparents for six months. I joined the DAR. I…I did 300 hours of community service…I was an idiot!"

He laughed. "I don't think you could ever be an idiot."

She shook her head. "You didn't see me then. You didn't know what I was like. I was terrible. I wasn't talking to my mother; I wasn't reading…I hated myself."

He walked around to her side of the counter, trailing his hand along its edge. "Hey." She looked up, staring him in the eye. "Don't feel bad about it, okay?" His hand traced her cheek. "You just hit your rebellious phase a bit later than the rest of us."

She smiled at him. "You're sweet."

He pulled her to him and placed a kiss atop her head. "What time is it?" he asked.

She glanced at her watch. "3:23," she replied. "Why?"

"Just…wondering."

"I'm not leaving yet," she told him, placing a kiss on his cheek.

"I know," he told her. "I just…hate knowing that we've only got a few hours left and we're just…watching the time go by."

"You could always ask…"

"—no!"

She nodded. "Okay."

He shook his head. "It's not that I wouldn't want you to stay, it's just…I wouldn't want you to have any regrets, not when it comes to your career and not when it comes to me."

"What makes you think I would regret it?"

He smiled at her. "You've wanted this for your whole life. To be an overseas correspondent. To travel. I'm not going to let you give that up, not unless you have a really good reason."

"But you _are_ a good reason. _I_ think you're a good reason. Doesn't that count for anything?"

"Rory…"

"You don't want me to stay."

"Of course I want you to stay! That's not what I'm trying to say. You know that. I just…we only just found each other again. Who knows if this will work, it didn't work the last time, and…I don't want you to give up a dream now when in two months or six months, or a year you'll realize what you could have had."

"Wow."

"What?"

"I think that's the most I've ever heard you say at once."

He raised his eyebrow.

"I understand what you're worried about, but…how will we ever know if we don't give it a shot? And it _can't_ work if we don't try!" She looked up at him. "I'm scared. I…I don't know if I'm ready for this."

"Rory…"

"I'm leaving! I'm going halfway around the world. I've never been to Bahrain before. I don't know what I'm getting myself into. What if I'm no good! What if the people don't want an MTV VJ to tell them what's going on? What if I die!"

He shook his head. "Well, first of all…you're not going to die. The chances of you being killed while you're there are very, very slim. Second, you do know what you're getting yourself into. Just because you've never been to Bahrain doesn't mean you don't know what you're doing. And third, I'm sure you're good. If CNN thinks you're good, then you're good."

"That's not necessarily true!"

"Rory…"

"It's entirely possible that I actually suck! I mean, I _was_ hired by MTV. That doesn't exactly speak volumes when it comes to talent."

"Rory!"

"What?"

"You're going to be fine."

"How do you know?"

He smiled. "I just know. You'll be fine."

"You're sure?"

He nodded. "I am sure."

She smiled and reached for his hand. "I love you, Jess…you don't have to say…"

"I love you, too."

She reached up and cupped his face in her hands. "Thank you for tonight, Jess. Really, it means a lot to me, being with you."

He kissed her forehead and then her mouth. She wrapped her arms around his neck and stood, letting the blanket fall from her shoulders, and leaving her in nothing but Jess's oversized t-shirt. She pushed him backwards into the counter. "God, I missed this," she said, coming up for air.

"You have no idea," he told her.


	8. 4:00 to 5:00 Jess's Bathroom

Before Sunrise  
By Rainwater Tears (Fizz)  
_Definitely_ rated M.

Author's Note: This chapter isn't much more than filler. Mostly 'cause I really had no clue what to do with it. I know what's happening in chapters nine, ten and eleven, but this one? I drew a blank. Therefore…water, kissing and uh…sex? And not much in the dialogue department, either.  
This chapter is devoted to my beloved Lits at Stars-Hollow. I love them to pieces, and this is their big Valentine's present. Also, to Ari, of course, because she's the greatest beta ever.

**Chapter 8  
**4:00 to 5:00 – Jess's Bathroom

Jess had never been a tidy person. Luke could vouch for that. He didn't try to be messy, it just happened. He'd never really had a chance to make a mess of his bedroom, though. He spent so little time in it that the floor was still clean, all the dishes were washed, and the laundry was kept in a hamper in the corner. He figured it was easier to keep it all together, to shave time off his bi-weekly trips to the Laundromat.

Looking about the room now, though, he hardly recognized it. There were clothes strewn across the floor. Rory's yellow cardigan dangled precariously from the corner of the bed. The stack of books-to-read that Jess normally kept on his bedside table had been knocked over and in its place sat two used coffee mugs.

He could hear Rory moving about the bathroom; turning the shower on. Jess stretched out across the bed and lay his head down on the pillow. He was still having trouble believing everything that had happened since the night began. Just hours before, Jess had been planning on spending the evening reading a book, writing. He thought he'd probably go to bed early. He certainly didn't expect to be wide awake at four AM, his ex-girlfriend brushing her teeth with his toothbrush one room over, a nagging premonitory feeling gnawing away at the corners of his heart. This wasn't going to end well.

--

Rory pulled Jess's thin t-shirt up over her head and slipped into the shower stall. It was just a tiny square. The corner was cluttered with half-empty bottles of shampoo and conditioner of varying shapes and sizes. Clearly Jess didn't care much for what brand he used so long as it got his hair clean.

She tilted her head and let the hot water slide down her hair, shoulders and back, relaxed into it and tried to forget she was leaving soon.

Rory leaned back against the glass wall of the shower. She could feel hot tears slipping down her cheeks and she reached up to wipe them away. Hours ago she'd been thrilled at the thought of leaving. Her career was finally starting. Someone had taken her seriously, for once; she was seen as something more than a pretty face, more than an MTV VJ.

It had been a long time since Rory had last felt the kind of passion she did with Jess. So much of the past few years had been focused on her career that men came and went. Her last relationship, Roger, had been more about PR than anything else. They were seen together on the red carpet, they dined in MTV-approved restaurants. Rory played along with it. She'd invite him over to her place, and he came to Stars Hollow with her, once, but they spent most of the weekend apart. He all but locked himself in her childhood bedroom making calls to his publicist, his agent, and his manager while she went to the Founders' Day Festival, hung out with her mother, and played with her baby sister.

That was the problem with dating an actor, Rory thought. It was never going to be about you.

When Roger told her he wanted to break up, she agreed and let him go. She was going to Bahrain, after all, and it wasn't as if Roger were the love of her life. She said goodbye.

She'd been so happy a few hours ago. It was like life was finally starting, and it was all going so well.

Now she never wanted the night to end.

The thought of getting on an airplane and flying halfway around the world terrified her. It wasn't really the war she was afraid of. The thought of enemy lines, soldiers, and epic battles turned her on. It was the idea of having to leave Jess behind that left her queasy and crying at 4 AM.

Rory turned and pressed her forehead against the cool glass. The water burned her back and the tears burned her cheeks. They were falling harder now, faster. She took a deep, ragged breath, but didn't try to brush them away. She let a sob escape and then clamped a hand over her mouth. The last thing she needed was for Jess to come running. She slowly sank to the floor, pushing the shampoo bottles out of the way and pulling her knees to her chest. No, this wasn't going to end well.

--

Rory had been in the shower 15 minutes when Jess started felt a tug in the pit of his stomach. His bedroom was a lot colder now, and though he knew she was only in the next room, he wished more than anything that she could be there beside him.

He glanced over at the clock and resisted the urge to throw something. 4:17. They didn't even have three hours left.

He pulled himself up and walked to the bathroom door. He knocked lightly.

"Come in!" He heard her turn the water off and pushed the door open. She was standing in the middle of his small bathroom, a yellow towel wrapped around her body, and her long hair was splayed across her shoulders. Her skin was flushed and she was smiling at him. She looked beautiful.

"Hi," he said. He took a small step into the room.

"Hi."

She blinked and a drop of water rolled down her forehead. He reached out to wipe it away and took another step towards her. She smelled like soap and water. He leaned closer and slid a hand down her arm. "Hi."

--

The water was on again, beating down against the both of them.

Jess had backed Rory into the shower stall, his lips against her neck and his hands sliding the towel down her waist. He held her hips tight against his and pressed the front of his teeth to the skin behind her ear. She pushed down on the faucet and water came pouring down on them, droplets sliding down the stall's glass walls, Rory's face; between her open lips and the crevice between her breasts.

One of Jess's thumbs brushed against her nipple and she gasped. He pressed his tongue against her pulse point, then kissed along her jaw line to her lips.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and slowly slid them down his chest. The kiss seemed to last hours. "Oh God, oh God," she breathed against his lips, her voice thin and ragged and lost to the sound of the water beating hard against the glass. "Oh God."

--

There was a window in Jess's bathroom. It was small and close to the ceiling and it looked out on the alley behind his building. When Rory pulled Jess out of the shower a thin strip of pink light was just shining in at the bottom of the window and the garbage-men's voices were carrying up from the alley.

"City's waking up," said Rory, as she squeezed the water out of her hair with the yellow towel.

"Yup," Jess replied. He pulled the towel out of her hands and wrapped his arms around her.

"Jess…"

"What?"

"It's 4:45."

"So?"

"So I have to get on a bus in two hours and ten minutes, and as much fun as the sex is…how about some coffee? And some fresh air? And maybe some tooth-brushing?"

He laughed. "Tooth brushing?"

She shoved him, lightly. "Shush…it's early and I'm running on very little sleep and a lot of…activity." Her cheeks flushed pink and he was glad to see that something of the shy teenager he'd once known remained.

A stray drop of water rolled slowly down Rory's back, leaving a cool trail on her hot skin. Jess pressed a kiss to her temple and grabbed her hand. "Come on," he said. "Let's go get dressed."

The air in the bedroom was cool, cold even, and Rory shivered as it hit her. She grabbed for the towel sitting on the small furnace beside the toilet and wrapped it around her shoulders. They wandered around the room picking up their clothes as they found them. A bra, boxers; Rory pulled her cardigan from where it still dangled on the corner of the mattress. They dressed slowly, in silence.

By the time they finished dressing the sky was lit up orange. They stepped out into the living room. Rory draped her sweater over the back of a chair, her skin still too hot from the shower and warm from the city's morning glow pouring into the living room to put it on. While Jess rinsed out their mugs from earlier she wandered around the room, glancing over the titles of his books, occasionally pulling one down from its shelf to flip through. She ran her finger across the words, as if she could soak them in that way.

She recognized a few of the volumes from high school. A couple had even been hers once, though it didn't cross her mind to ask for them back. They had long since become Jess's. His notes were strewn across the margins, his thoughts and feelings.

Jess set the second mug down on the counter just as the alarm in his bedroom went off. "Five o'clock," he told her.

She nodded.

"You want to go get some coffee?"

She nodded again.


	9. 5:00 to 6:00 Frank's Beans

Title: Before Sunrise

Author: Rainwater Tears (litglitter/Fizzy/Elizabeth)

Rating: M

Author's Note: to Ari, who had not only beta-ed almost every chapter, but who always succeeds in making me feel better about them once they're done.

We're coming up on the end, here, with just two more chapters and an epilogue left. Hope you enjoy.

**Chapter 9**

5:00 to 6:00 – Frank's Beans

New York was glistening. The rising sun cast an orange glow over the buildings that lined the street; Rory and Jess stepped out into the warm, damp air of the sidewalk.

Summer had always appealed to Rory. Despite her undeniable love for education…warm afternoons, weekends at the beach, and 3 months without homework was the definition of heaven in her childhood. She could watch waves lap against the sand for hours. Lorelai used to have to drag her off the boardwalk with promises that they would return soon, any visible skin the bright red shade of her favorite dress-up lipstick. Rory couldn't handle wet grass as a kid, but burning the soles of her feet on the sand had been worth it if it had meant reading a book on the beach.

New York summers were different, though. New York summers burned you up from the inside, slowly, boiling your blood in the moist heat. Working for MTV, Rory had spent many an afternoon out on the streets of the city, her hair wilting and her make-up flaking. It had been years since she'd enjoyed a summer as much as she'd enjoyed the past ten hours. Nothing more recent than the innocence of her childhood could compare.

Jess was leading her down the street in the direction of the sunrise. She reached out to grab hold of his arm. Her fingertips brushed against his soft skin as they slid down to his wrist where she wrapped her fingers tight. She didn't want to let go. He walked a little closer to her and slipped his hand into the palm of hers. Their fingers intertwined as their arms brushed up against each other. Sparks flew through her body.

They turned at the corner. This was where they found the city. Cars going in every direction, taxis everywhere…despite the early hour, New York was alive. Fingers locked together, Rory linked her elbow with Jess's and grabbed onto his arm with her other hand. She lay her head down on his shoulder as they walked, noting how perfectly they seemed to fit together. Her heart started to break.

Jess's coffee shop was halfway down the block. Rory wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't stopped suddenly and turned: they were facing a narrow red door with the words "Frank's Beans" painted above it. There were no windows, nothing to suggest that anything actually existed behind the door, but Jess plunged onward, giving the door two swift kicks and wiggling the handle before pulling it open. Before them stretched a long, dimly lit hallway, the walls lined with postcards and the floor covered with shag carpeting.

"Umm, Jess?" Rory asked as she stared at what lay before her.

"Yeah?"

"Where are we exactly?"

Jess laughed. "This is Fred's." When she still looked unsure he continued. "I promise there's coffee at the end of the hallway."

She nodded and stepped forward.

Jess was telling the truth. Once they got down the hall they were greeted by a fairly large room that didn't look all that different from Luke's. The counter, tables, and chairs were all accounted for anyway. The only things Frank's Beans was lacking were windows and customers. The only other person in the room was a short guy with bright red hair. He stood behind the counter, his entire form hunched over a magazine that looked like it had seen better days. Jess cleared his throat. "Fred?"

The guy looked up in surprise. "Jess!"

He couldn't have been much taller than her former boss at the Yale Daily News, Doyle, and he was very…distinctive. His face was framed by a pair of large black glasses that made all his features look smaller—all his features except his smile, which stretched wide across his face. "You brought a friend!"

Rory smiled and followed Jess across the room to the counter. "Hi," she greeted him, and held out her hand to shake.

"Oh." Fred's smile shrunk a bit. "Sorry, I don't shake."

Rory looked at Jess, a little confused.

"Germ thing," explained Fred, his smile wide again. "Nothing really, just a phobia. My therapist's dealing with it."

Rory smiled and nodded. Jess had made some odd friends since last she'd seen him.

"So, Jess, what'll you have?" Fred asked.

"Just a coffee," Jess told him. He glanced over at Rory but didn't have to ask. "Make those two coffees."

Fred nodded. "Coming right up."

As Fred poured, Rory glanced over the counter at what he had been reading. As far as she could tell, it was an old issue of _Rolling Stone_. The article he had been reading was about My Chemical Romance. Jess followed her glance. "Geez, Fred!" he exclaimed. "How old is this issue…My Chemical Romance?"

"2005," Fred said over his shoulder. "I'm almost done, though; before you know it I'll be up to the 2008 election!"

Jess smirked at Rory. "He's working his way through every issue of _Rolling Stone_, cover to cover, in chronological order."

"He's giving you a look, isn't he," Fred asked Rory. "He mocks, but this is serious business. Very time consuming." He topped off their drinks and handed them over.

"As I imagine it would be," Rory said with a smile. "My mother once tried to do something like that, only it was watching 'Buffy,' not reading _Rolling Stone_, and she gave up halfway through season five."

Fred laughed.

"Maybe not so much like it."

"No, no, that's ambitious," Fred told her. "Me, I've never even seen one episode!" He laughed again. "Read about it a lot, though." He gestured to a stack of magazines in the corner. Rory's eyes widened at its size.

"That's just five years' worth," Jess said. "You should see the stacks in his apartment."

"My _Rolling Stones_ are nothing compared to your books, Mariano," Fred said, but he was laughing.

Jess nodded. "So you've told me." He gazed down into his mug.

"Hey Jess," Fred said with a nudge and a conspiratorial wink.

"Yeah?" He looked up.

"You still haven't introduced me to the lovely lady." He gave Rory a grin. She blushed ever so slightly and her ears grew hot.

"Oh." Jess almost looked startled, and Rory realized that he had gotten used to her. Despite how odd the past ten hours had been, Jess had adjusted to having her at his side, her hand pressed against the damp skin of his palm. It hadn't even occurred to Jess to introduce her to Fred. The thought sent warm tingles rushing to her belly.

A second later those warm tingles were replaced by the rancid ache of nausea. She barely heard Jess's flustered introduction as she frantically scanned the room for a bathroom.

"Nice to meet you, Fred," she stammered. "I'll be right back." She raced for the only door she could see, hoping against hope it was the one she was looking for.

It was.

--

"Mommy?"

There was a moment of silence. Then the phone crackled, the connection wavered, and Rory heard her mother's faint reply. "Emma?"

"What? No, Mom. It's me, Rory."

"Sorry, Babe, but I don't think you've called me 'Mommy' since you were about four."

"I know. I'm just…confused?" She leaned back against the wall of the bathroom and sunk down onto her heels. "I puked."

"Thanks for sharing." Rory could hear her mother's sigh despite the distance between them and the weak connection, and she knew what her mother was thinking. "Is this about Jess?"

It was Rory's turn to sigh. A part of her really hated proving Lorelai right. "Yes." She cast her eyes about the bathroom. The walls, like the hallway, were papered in postcards, print side up. "No."

"Well, which is it?"

"I don't know." She felt a couple tears slide down her cheeks, but quickly wiped them away. "I really, really don't know."

"What's happened since I talked to you last night?" Rory heard her mother's voice crack on the word "last."

Rory choked out something between a laugh and a sob. "I don't even know where to start. This has been the…strangest night of my life thus far."

Lorelai exhaled. "Did you guys…did you hook up?"

"Mom!"

"What?" Lorelai almost laughed. "If I'm going to help I have to know the details." She paused. "But not too many details."

A few more tears slipped past Rory's lids. "Yes."

"Yes, you hooked up?"

"Yes."

"Did you…did you sleep with him?"

Rory was silent for a long moment before answering. "Yes?"

"Is that a question? Because that's the sort of thing you should really know the answer to."

Rory took a deep breath. "Yes. I slept with Jess. Yes." She stretched her legs out in front of her on the bathroom floor.

Lorelai inhaled sharply. "Okay."

"I didn't plan it." Rory pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them. The phone felt hot against her ear. "Last night was…strange. We were dancing and then there was kissing and then we were at his apartment and I don't even remember the last time anything ever felt this real." Any semblance of composure Rory had left was gone. She was sobbing into her knees, her breath rattling in her chest and the phone slipping in her sweaty palm. "I don't know what I'm doing."

"Oh, sweetie." Lorelai had never sounded so far away. "Where are you?"

"The bathroom." Rory sniffled. "The bathroom at Jess's coffee place."

"Rory?" Jess knocked lightly on the door. "Are you okay in there?"

She coughed and clamped her palm down over the mouth-piece. "I'm fine! I'll be out in a minute!" She tried to keep her voice light and even.

"You've gotta make a decision here, Babe," her mother told her. "You've got to make a decision and you've got to make it fast. It's not fair to you and it's not fair to Jess."

"I know." She leaned back. "I know."

"I'm gonna let you go, sweets, but you let me know when you figure this all out…even if that means calling collect from Bahrain."

Rory laughed a little, just a little, and promised to call.

"Love you, Babe."

"Love you, too." She felt the phone snap closed in her hand and wiped away her remaining tears.

"Rory, are you sure you're okay?" Jess called from outside the bathroom.

She pushed herself up off the floor and brushed her hair back behind her ears. "I'm fine!" she promised him and nodded to herself in the mirror. "Just give me a second."

--

"What was that?" Jess asked as she stepped back into the coffee shop, concerned etched into the creases of his brow.

"Nothing," she told him. "Just lack of sleep and pre-flight jitters. I don't fly well." She reached for his hand and led him back over to the counter. She could tell by the way that he was looking at her that he didn't believe a word she was saying. His eyes are searched her face, his mouth is set in a thin line. "Really," she assured him. "I'm fine."

Fred was into the next article in his magazine and appeared to be paying little attention to his only customers, but when they reached the counter he poured them fresh coffee without looking and Rory thought she saw the hint of a smile flit across his face.

"So, Fred," she started once she had taken her seat on a stool, "if you own the place, why is it _Frank's_ beans?"

Jess laughed a little and Rory got the feeling that maybe she shouldn't have asked.

"Well, originally I was going to call it _Fred's Beans_," Fred told her as he slid a napkin into the magazine to hold his place and folded it closed, "but that just seemed too boring and I was running out of time for naming the place so I was kind of freaking out and I got this, like, epiphany! My favorite food is beans and franks, right? And coffee's made from beans? So why not call it _Frank's Beans_!" He beamed at her. "'Course it didn't go over too well with most people, they kept getting confused as to who Frank was. But I figured, I have the right to refuse service…someone doesn't like the name I just won't serve them." Fred laughed.

"And it's been that way ever since," Jess told her.

Fred nodded. "Ever since," he repeated.

Rory glanced at Jess and smiled a little. "And doesn't that have an effect on business?" she asked. "I mean, if you're refusing to serve all these people?"

"Nah," Fred shook his head. "I mean, it does, a little, but it doesn't bug me. Besides, it's more the location that drives away customers than the name."

"Trust fund kid," Jess told her and she nodded.

"Ah."

Fred smiled and went back to his magazine as Rory took a sip of the coffee. "What time is it?" Jess asked her.

"5:47," she told him once she had checked her watch.

He nodded and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulled her in closer to him and kissed the top of her head. She could feel the tension in his grip and wished she knew how to fix things, make it all work. She drank deeply from her mug to cover the taste of vomit. The nausea was gone, only to be replaced by mind-numbing fear.

"You want to get going?" Jess asked as she finished off her coffee. "I want to make a quick stop before we head to the Port Authority."

"Okay," she nodded and set the mug down on the counter. She forced a smile. "It was nice to meet you," she told Fred as she pulled herself up off the stool.

"Same here," he nodded, barely looking up from the magazine. "Come back any time."

She looked over at Jess and her smile faltered a little. "Maybe I will," she said.

The city was boiling when they got outside, temperatures already in the high nineties. Rory felt a bead of sweat trickle down the back of her neck almost as soon as they reached the sidewalk and she pulled her hair back into a high ponytail. "It's hot," she announced, for the sake of saying something.

Jess nodded. "Forget international correspondent," he joked. "You should be a weather girl."

She laughed and leaned into him; he wrapped an arm around her side. "So where are we going?" she asked.

"Nowhere in particular," he told her.

"I thought you wanted to make a stop."

"Nah, I just wanted some time alone with you before you had to go." He smiled. "Fred's a great friend and all, I just…" he trailed off and she looked up at him. He was watching her, and the look on his face spoke to an unusual mixture of joy and sorrow. She nodded but didn't say anything. She didn't know what to say.


	10. 6:00 to 7:00 The New York Port Authority

Author's Note: Alright, guys, we're coming up on the end now (just chapter 11 and the epilogue/sequel-type-thing left after this chapter) and it's really hard to believe. I've been working on the fic for 2 years now, and while I've most definitely switched my fandom focus these days I _promise_ to see this story through to the end.

This particular chapter took ages to write, mostly because the last few pages of it were just plain mean to me. I'm pretty happy with how it turned out, though, so hopefully it was worth the wait.

As always, massive thanks to Ari, the greatest beta in the world.

**Chapter 10  
6:00-7:00: The New York Port Authority**

Rory watched Jess's feet as they walked down the sidewalk, examined the scuffed toes of his chucks and the tattered hem of his jeans. The sight was familiar, these were the things about Jess that hadn't changed since high school.

"What are you thinking?" he asked as he ran his hand down the bare skin of her arm. She shivered slightly and lowered her head to rest on his shoulder.

"Nothing much."

He smirked.

"Hey!" she said suddenly. "You never told me what you do!"

"What I do?" he asked, confused.

"Yeah. I mean, you must have a job. You're not living on the streets or anything."

Jess laughed. "Yes, I have a job."

"So…" Rory drew out the word, waiting for some response.

"So…what?" Jess asked. He scratched the back of his head, and tucked his chin down to hide a smile.

"So…what do you do? What's this mystery job?" Rory asked. She was trying her hardest to cover up her laughter with a mask of frustration.

"You know, you're adorable when you're exasperated," Jess told her and she pulled away to smack him lightly across his arm before curling herself back into him. "I work for a shipping company," he sighed. "It's not particularly challenging or anything, but it pays the bills and leaves time for writing."

"Writing?" she asked, surprised.

"Yes." He nodded. "I've published 2 novels and I've got a compilation of short stories due out this winter."

Rory was grinning; he could see her out of the corner of his eye. She ducked her head and when she looked back up at him he almost had to stop. The warm morning glow was bouncing off one of the buildings nearby and lighting her face with soft orange light, and she was smiling so hard he could see all her teeth. "You wrote a book," she said and it came out choked with joy.

"I wrote 3 books," he laughed.

"Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't _Luke_ tell me?"

It was Jess's turn to duck his head. "Luke doesn't know."

"You haven't told Luke?" Her joy turned to shock. "He'd be so proud of you! Jess—"

He sighed. "A lot of the things in the first novel were borrowed from when I was living in Stars Hollow, and the main character…well he was pretty heavily based on Luke. I just…wasn't sure I was comfortable with Luke reading that." He glanced away, but pulled her closer to him. "It's why I wrote under a pen name. Didn't want anyone in Stars Hollow to find out I'd fictionalized them."

Rory nodded. "Are you ever going to tell him?"

"Probably…eventually. I was thinking about inviting him to the release party for the third book."

"You should," Rory said, nudging him with her shoulder. "Invite me, too." She grinned up at him, biting her lower lip, and he wondered why she looked so nervous.

"What if you're in Bahrain when it comes out?"

Rory shrugged. "Invite me anyway, just in case."

"I'll do that."

Rory smiled.

They walked in silence for awhile, Rory's eyes continuing to trace the outline of Jess's feet against the pavement, Jess's fingers gliding up and down her arm. They each marveled in the comfort of the moment, the simplicity.

After awhile, Rory spoke again. "So…would I have read either of your books?"

Jess shrugged. "Maybe. They aren't very well known, but _Time_ did a short blurb on the second one, and the first was profiled in a couple of very obscure literary magazines."

"So what's your pen name?" Her voice was high and light.

"Lucas James."

A short, loud burst of energy exhaled through Rory's lips so fast that she nearly toppled over. "You're Lucas James?" she gasped.

Jess nodded.

"As in the author of Yesterday's Town?"

"Yup." Jess couldn't deny that he was surprised. It was rare that he came across anyone who had read his books, and the fact that Rory had read them—he didn't know whether he was glad or embarrassed.

"I love you!"

Definitely embarrassed. Rory watched the blush rise in his cheeks. As a teenager she'd treated any display of emotion from Jess (any display of emotion that wasn't anger, that is) as a small victory, and she felt that same sense of pride now as his entire face flushed a dark pink.

"I'm serious, Jess. I couldn't put that book down!" She shoved him, lightly, and when he glanced over she was still grinning at him. "Probably because it reminded me so much of Stars Hollow."

He smiled at her: a genuine, from the gut, honest-to-God smile.

"And you. It reminded me of you, too."

--

_You know you're smarter than most everybody at your school. It takes you like five minutes to finish a book. You read everything, you remember everything, you could ace those classes easily. Why don't you? You don't need a tutor. It's crazy that they're talking about leaving you back. _

_Whatever. _

_You can do anything you want, you can be anything you want. _

--

"What time is it?"

Rory glanced down at her watch. "6:23." She sighed and leaned into him a bit, nearly tripping him as they continued to move forward. "Time goes a lot faster when you want it to slow down."

Jess nodded but remained silent.

--

_You know what just occurred to me? That we are very fortunate to have good teeth. _

_Yes, very fortunate. _

_Can you imagine if braces were involved in this interaction? _

_It'd be a bloodbath. _

_I can't catch my breath. _

_You're not supposed to._

--

Despite their combined and unspoken attempt at a slow-paced walk to the Port Authority, Rory and Jess found themselves staring it down rather quickly. The speed of the city had worked its way into their steps and hurried them towards the inevitable, and they stood before the grime-covered building, their eyes trying to adjust to the harsh glare of the sun on the glass doors. Rory's watch read 6:30.

"I guess we should go in," Rory said after a moment. She disentangled herself from Jess's arm, which was slung around her shoulder.

"Guess so." Jess exhaled slowly, through his teeth. They stepped forward and pushed their way into the building.

Despite the early hour, the Port Authority was teeming with life. People were rushing in every direction, and Rory pushed herself close to Jess as they made their way through the crowd. "I have to get my bags," Rory breathed into his ear, and he nodded his agreement.

The locker that Rory had selected the night before stood at the end of a long row; she pushed the key into the lock slowly, turned it carefully, and stepped back to allow the tall, thin door to swing open. Inside it sat two bags; one a large suitcase that looked like it had been squeezed in by magic, the other a denim messenger bag. Rory grabbed the messenger bag and slung it over her head so that it crossed her chest. It took all of her body weight to pull the suitcase out, and it finally came loose with a loud scraping noise. Rory fell backward into Jess and he struggled to keep them from falling onto the dirty floor beneath them.

"Oops," Rory laughed once they'd regained their balance. Jess just smiled at her and reached for the bag.

Then, in the far corner of the room, slightly apart from the mad rush of people, Rory and Jess found an unoccupied bench. Rory slid down onto it and pulled him with her.

"I think I need coffee," she said.

Jess laughed. "Because the four cups you had earlier this morning weren't enough."

"Nope," Rory said, and she shook her head. "'Caffeine is life.' Lorelai Gilmore, 1995."

Jess shook his head. "That is very, very pathetic."

Rory tried to nod but it came out as a yawn. "See…caffeine needed." She slowly lowered her head to his shoulder. "We should have slept more," she said. "Or maybe less. Less sleep is good, too." She let her eyes drift closed for a moment.

"Don't fall asleep on me now." Jess shifted a bit so his shoulders shook.

"Not sleeping, just resting."

Jess leaned back against the hard bench and allowed his eyes to close as well. The silence was comfortable, but neither could shake the anxiety that clutched their hearts at the thought of Rory's imminent departure.

"Jess?" Rory finally asked.

"Hmm?"

"What happens next?"

--

_Okay, so I just go straight and we'll be back at Luke's. _

_Good sense of direction. _

_Of course, I could turn right and then we'd just be driving around in circles for awhile. _

_Turn right. _

_As you wish. _

--

Jess sighed as he tried to push the memory out of his mind. They had been so young then, just seventeen, and he had been so stupid, always trying to tug her away from the picture perfect image she presented. He shook his head and pulled himself towards the present.

"I don't know, Rory," he responded. "What do you want to happen?"

She shrugged but didn't open her eyes. Since when had her life gotten so complicated? "We can keep in touch," she said. "E-mail and stuff."

Jess nodded. "Yeah. We can e-mail."

"And I'll be home for Christmas, I think. There's no telling how long the assignment will be. Maybe I'll be home by Thanksgiving!" Her enthusiasm was genuine but she sincerely doubted the words. She had been promised a Christmas vacation, yes, provided nothing major came up, but the chances of her being sent home as early as Thanksgiving were slim.

Jess could hear the doubt in her voice, but tried to remain optimistic, something he'd never been particularly good at. "The book release will probably be sometime in January. You've got lots of time."

"Yup." She nodded. "Lots of time."

--

_This is my stop. _

_Okay. _

_So, you'll call me? _

_Yeah, I'll call you. _

--

Rory's eyes shot open as she remembered the promise Jess had made so many years ago. She supposed he hadn't really broken it, provided it had been him calling on the day of her high school graduation, but she couldn't forget the way he'd sounded, telling her he'd call her. The defeat in his voice, the way his words had rung in her ears like an echo, rather than a promise.

"Hey, Jess?"

"Yeah?"

"The day I graduated from high school…was that you that kept calling and hanging up?"

For a long moment Jess didn't respond. He froze beside her, not moving, not even breathing, and Rory sat up to look at him. His eyes were still closed and his lips were pressed firmly together, so tight that they were rimmed with the same yellow-white shade of her knuckles as she grasped the edge of the bench. When he finally moved she breathed a sigh of relief, but he still didn't give her an answer.

"It was, wasn't it?"

He nodded.

"Why'd you call?"

Jess sighed and swiped a hand across the back of his head, raking his nails through his hair and scratching at the skin beneath it. He exhaled slowly. "Because I told you I would."

She nodded. "Yeah, you did."

"I _was _going to say something, too. Just…didn't know _what_ to say."

"I think I know the feeling."

Jess finally opened his eyes, looking down at her. "I did want to tell you congratulations, though. On graduating and on Yale. Then you made that speech about not pining, though, and anything I'd even considered saying got lost."

There was a large black board at the center of the room that announced all the arrivals and departures in white letters that sped across it like a child's flip book. Before Rory could say anything there was a loud rustling and her bus appeared on the departure list as "now boarding."

"I guess we should go find it," Jess said. Rory nodded.

Rory's bus was at the end of a long line; they could hear the engine groaning over the crowd of people, the other twelve buses and at least 50 feet of concrete. As they walked towards it, Rory's arm linked through Jess's and her head once again rested on his shoulder, they simultaneously slowed down.

"I think that one's yours," Jess said, gesturing with his free hand to the marquee display across the top of the windshield that read "Newark Airport."

"Yup, that's the one."

They were still 20 feet away, standing beside a bus that was, according to its windshield, going to Stamford, Connecticut. A tall man in an unfortunate suit pushed his way past them to get to it. "S'cuse me!" he called back apologetically as he raced for the door.

"Looks like everybody's in a hurry," Jess said

"Indeed." Rory turned to face him and pressed her face into his neck. "Remember the last time we were here?" she asked as she stepped back.

"You mean last night?"

Rory laughed and shook her head. "No, back in high school." She smiled. "I skipped school, tracked you down for no good reason?"

"Oh." Jess laughed. "That time."

"Yup, that time."

"You know, if you hadn't done that, we probably never would have dated."

Rory looked up at him and tightened the grip she had on the fabric of his shirt. "Oh yeah? How do you figure?"

"Well, I would have never come back to Stars Hollow and you never would have kissed me at Sookie's wedding and I never would have subtly sabotaged your relationship with Dean."

"Oh, so that's what you call showing up at the dance marathon with Shane? Subtly sabotaging my relationship with Dean?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

Rory laughed. "Well, thank you for that. I wish you'd managed it sooner. Might've prevented the relapse I had after my freshman year."

"Relapse?"

"Dean and I got back together, briefly, when I was in college."

"You're kidding."

Rory shook her head. "Nope. It was a disaster from the start."

"But didn't he get married after high school? To the Matchbox Twenty rebound girl?"

"Lindsay? Yeah, he did." Rory bowed her head. "It didn't last, and that's largely my fault." She raised her head to look him in the eye. "Not something I'm particularly proud of."

Jess hugged her close and rested his chin on her head. "Yeah, well, the past is the past, right?"

Rory nodded. "Right."

Jess pressed a kiss against her temple and they once again started walking towards the bus.

Up close it looked like a death trap. Most of the paint had worn off the sides and it tilted to the left. "Are you sure you want to take the bus?" Jess asked her as they stared up at it.

Rory nodded. "This is nothing compared to some of the buses I took in high school. I'll be fine."

"You promise?"

"I promise. Besides, I'm a war correspondent, right? I've got to get used to roughing it." She smiled at him and he could see how strained it was.

Jess leaned back against the bus and shoved his hands into his pockets. For an instant she was transported back in time. "You know, you haven't changed so much," she told him. "I mean, you're older, more mature, but you're still Jess." She smiled.

"Really? I am?" Jess asked, his voice laced with mockery and his eyes glittering. "Because I thought I might be Jerry."

Rory laughed again and almost instantly her laughter turned to tears.

Jess's face fell and he reached out to pull her against him. "Hey, hey," he said, his hand sliding down the back of her head and his fingers slipping through the strands of her hair. "If you keep breaking down like this you're going to dry out." He rested his chin on top of her head. "Can't have you going off to Bahrain dehydrated."

She choked through her tears and wrapped her arms around his waist. Her face was pressed up against the warm skin of his neck. "I don't want to go," she told him, pressing a kiss against the spot where she could feel his heartbeat.

"Rory."

"I don't. I don't want to go. I don't want to say goodbye."

Jess took her in. The smell of his shampoo and her slightly damp hair, the way she clung to him, like this was forever, the desperation in her sobs. He took her in and pushed her away. He held her at arms length, his hands on her shoulders. "You have to do this."

"Why." The word was meant to be a question, but she already knew the answer.

"If you don't go, you'll regret it. And don't tell me that won't happen, because it will and you know it, Rory."

"You want me to go?"

"No. I want you to stay." She looked up, her eyes bright with tears. "I want you to stay, but you need to go. You know you need to go."

She nodded, reached a hand up to push tears out of her eyes. "I need to go."

"Yeah," Jess nodded. "You need to go."

He pulled her against him again, tangled his fingers in her hair.

"This is so weird," Rory said. She was still pressed up against him and her voice was almost lost in his shoulder.

"What's weird?"

"This." She laughed. "I didn't think I would ever see you again, and here I am, finding it impossible to say goodbye to you."

He nodded and his cheek brushed back and forth against her hair. "Yeah, I guess it is pretty weird."

"So…are you going to say goodbye?"

He pulled away to look her in the eye and took her hands in his.

"I mean, you've hardly ever _said_ 'goodbye.' It's always been, you know, 'I'll call you,' or a drive-by 'I love you.'" She rubbed at her eyes.

"Do you want me to say goodbye?"

She nodded. "I'm not going to leave unless you do."

He tried to smile, but it came out strained. "Goodbye, Rory."

She pulled his face to hers and pressed her lips to his. It was slow and sweet, almost chaste. When she stepped back there were fresh tears in her eyes. "Goodbye, Jess."

She broke contact first. She took another step backward, moving closer to the bus, and let her hands slip from his grasp. They'd been touching almost constantly since arriving at the port authority, and the separation was a shock. She managed a weak smile before turning away and running to the bus. He watched her form through the tinted glass as she moved into the heart of the bus.

She took a seat near the middle, a window seat, and he followed down to stand outside her window. He didn't have to knock to get her attention, she was already watching him. "I love you," he told her through the glass.

"What?" She pushed open the window.

He smiled. "I love you."

"Oh." She grinned and he thought he could see the outline of a blush in the dim light. "I love you, too, Jess."

--

_I mean, you ditched school and everything. That's so not you. Why'd you do it? _

_Because you didn't say goodbye._

_Oh. Bye, Rory._

_Bye, Jess._

--


	11. Postlude After 7

So this is it, the last chapter. I hope you've enjoyed reading BS as much as I've enjoyed writing it. I know the chapter is short, but hopefully it's good. Someday (hopefully not TOO far in the future), I plan to write "Before Sunset."

**Chapter 11**

Newark Airport is slowly slipping away beneath her. The runway is all but invisible, Ikea is but a blue dot on the highway winding its way below, and the cars go from matchboxes to ants.

She leans back in her chair and sighs deeply as the pilot turns off the "fasten seatbelts" light. People all around her chatter loudly and the flight attendants break out the beverage carts.

She tries to sleep. Her eyelids feel heavy, but closing them hurts. The air conditioning is on full blast and she pulls an airline blanket around her shoulders to keep her warm. She can picture her sweater hanging limply over the back of a chair in Jess's kitchen and curses herself for forgetting it.

The night is hazy in her memory, fogged over with lack of sleep (and the past two hours spent picking apart and analyzing till her brain hurt). She thinks about fingers and skin and scalding hot water and she settles deeper into her seat. She tries to fend off regret.

--

He takes the subway back to his apartment, staring blindly at the doors and pressing the sleep out of his eyes with the heel of his hand.

When he gets back to his apartment, he calls in to work, fakes a cough while he cradles the phone between his ear and his shoulder, and scrubs her lips off his coffee mugs. He spots her yellow cardigan as he's reaching for his laptop. His fingers graze the soft yarn and he pulls it toward him. He folds it carefully, her voice ringing in his ears and gently mocking him for his sentimentality.

He sets the sweater down on the counter and once again reaches for his laptop.

He's tired, certainly, his eyes bloodshot and his brain struggling, but his imagination is whirling and spinning but his word processor can't open fast enough.

The night feels like a blur now, her face shimmering in and out of his thoughts and their activities melting away from his memories. Did he really only kiss her goodbye a couple hours before this? It seems like it's been days or weeks since he felt her skin beneath his fingertips.

He drifts off to sleep several hours later, stretched across the rumpled bed that still smells like her, his laptop laid in front of him. When he wakes, his words are the only proof that it wasn't all a dream.

The End

If you're interested, I've written a massive, all-encompassing Author's Note. It's at my writing livejournal. I can't post a link here, but I will set it as my website on my profile here. There will also be a soundtrack, posted in the same place.


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